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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794689">Infection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka'>yeaka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:49:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah arranges an android playdate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Infection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Markus drives the wheelchair next to the couch, then bends to carefully scoop his master up into his sturdy arms. Elijah <i>could</i> offer to help; he’s in peak physical condition, stronger even than some of his lower-end household models. But his greatest prototype seems to relish its role, so Elijah allows Markus the privilege—he takes his own seat on the opposite couch and waits while Markus makes Carl comfy. Markus even pours the tea on the coffee table, offering cups to both of them—Elijah says, “Thank you,” purely out of habit; he likes the little smiles his Chloes give them when he extends them basic courtesies. Markus isn’t programmed the same way and shows no reaction. He doesn’t have to <i>please</i> Elijah.</p><p>He’s <i>fascinating</i>. When he’s finished serving them, he straightens, and Elijah takes the liberty of ordering, “Now, why don’t you go see what I left in Carl’s studio?”</p><p>Markus gives him a blank look, Carl frowning—neither of them will understand just why Elijah left it there. He could have simply sat Simon down next to him, Markus beside Carl, and the two of them could’ve introduced their androids like proud parents with shy toddlers. Elijah imagines the reactions will be very different this way, with some small semblance of privacy. The studio door’s been left open, drawn aside to show a distant view of the artistic mess beyond. Markus glances over to it, then checks with Carl—Carl sighs, “You may as well. I’m sure whatever Elijah has to say to me would only bore you.”</p><p>Markus politely answers, “Never, Carl.” But he does head towards the studio like the good boy he is. Elijah enjoys watching his retreat for a few seconds—Markus is sculpted to <i>perfection</i>: everything from his broad shoulders to the lean dip of his hip bones to the tight globes of his rear is pleasant to look at. When Markus reaches the studio, he hesitates, then slowly steps in front of the trim blond standing at attention. </p><p>Simon’s LED swirls for half a second. He blinks at Markus, and Markus’ gaze slowly sweeps down his body, processing and memorizing. Then Carl interrupts, “So, what did you want to talk about? Did you want another painting?”</p><p><i>Always</i>. No one captures emotion quite like Carl Manfred. It’s no surprise that every time Elijah checks in, Markus has just a <i>little</i> more light behind his eyes—more than he’d ever learn at Elijah’s place. Elijah answers simply, “I wanted to see how Markus reacts to Simon, and how Simon reacts to him. Markus is a highly advanced but specialized model, you know.”</p><p>“Yes. He’s proven very... helpful.” There’s a pause where Carl searches for the words, and Elijah can tell that he was looking for something different: something more <i>meaningful</i>; he’s well aware that Markus has become more to Carl than just a nurse. Still frowning, probably rightfully suspicious, Carl adds, “Thank you for him.”  </p><p>“Of course.” In the corner of his eye, Elijah watches Markus’ hand reach out to Simon’s chest, smoothing over the crisp black shirt that keeps them from real contact—skin-on-skin or <i>plating-on-plating</i>. Then that hand climbs slowly higher, tracing Simon’s throat and up to his cheek, gently cupping his face as Markus’ synthetic flesh peels away. Simon’s LED winks yellow before settling, and his lips part. Those subtle reactions are <i>gold</i>. Elijah lets himself turn and really <i>look</i> at the way Markus tenderly thumbs Simon’s cheek. Carl follows his gaze. Elijah notes, “It seems like they’re getting along well.”</p><p>Carl makes a short scoffing sound, looking forward again to remind Elijah, “They’re not dogs. Surely you didn’t come over just to have them sniff each other?”</p><p>He did, actually. Markus shifts his weight forward, coming that fraction closer, fingers curling in as his other hand moves for Simon’s hip, and his mouth is open too, LED whirring as he tightens his grip—Simon glances back to Elijah. Even as far apart as they are, Elijah can see a sudden flicker of <i>life</i> in those dead eyes that wasn’t there before. </p><p>Markus glances over too, then turns right back to Simon, as though their masters are nowhere near as interesting as the gorgeous man in front of him. He doesn’t pull Simon in for the crushing kiss that Elijah would demand if he were in their position, but Markus does stay firmly in Simon’s orbit, hands all over Simon’s body. </p><p>Neither of them is really <i>awake</i> yet. Elijah can see that in their restraint. But the sparks are there, and he’s seen what he wanted. </p><p>He takes his first and only sip of tea, then leans forward to set his cup back on the tray. He tells Carl, “Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I should be going. I just remembered an appointment. Would you like to keep Simon overnight?”</p><p>“What ever for?”</p><p>Elijah nods towards the studio and suggests, “I think your android might appreciate it.”</p><p>Carl deflates with a heavy sigh. He may not know what Elijah’s <i>really</i> up to, but he’s clearly seen through Elijah’s surface explanation. It doesn’t matter. If Markus can truly do what Elijah thinks, Carl won’t stop him. </p><p>Simon won’t stop anything; he’s defenseless: just an ordinary model, that’ll spread whatever dormant virus Markus gives him to everything he touches. There will be certain Chloes he’ll be banned from interfacing with once Elijah takes him home. </p><p>Carl relinquishes with a quiet, “Alright.” Elijah thanks him with a winning smile and pushes up onto both feet. </p><p>Before he leaves, Elijah strolls for the studio. He slips inside and walks right up to Simon, closer even than Markus is, and when he leans over Simon’s shoulder, he’s sure to let his breath tickle Simon’s cheek. He murmurs in Simon’s ear, “You’ll spend the night here, with him.” Elijah nods to Markus, who’s watching him intently. “Be a good boy for Markus, and engage any protocols you like.” There’s a bastion of household duties in Simon’s head, including everything necessary to <i>please his master.</i> There should be at least something in there to amuse his host. But Simon looks at Elijah like he doesn’t understand.</p><p>Markus will figure it out. His expression has a raw intensity that Simon’s doesn’t. Elijah winks at him and leaves.</p>
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